


counting sheep

by deniigiq



Series: Dumpster Fires Verse [14]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Gen, Minor Injuries, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sleep disorders, Team Red, because we all know he has it in him, peter being a little shit, wade is too tired to deal with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 12:15:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deniigiq/pseuds/deniigiq
Summary: Double D snuffled into the rug and ignored the cup for a good ten seconds before the echolocation kicked in and he reached a hand out behind him to find it. Peter danced it out of his reach.“Hey,” Miss Claire’s voice barked behind him. He froze. “What have I told you about doing that?”





	counting sheep

When Double D reached a certain point of unconsciousness (by his own or someone else’s volition), he had a tendency to latch onto whatever was put nearby his face. Depending on how and where he went down, he either followed this up by pulverizing it into submission or aggressively cuddling it. Since Double D was really good at not blacking out in the street, more often than not, he leaned towards aggressive cuddling. Anything. Anywhere. Any way.

 And Peter would get over that shit absolutely never.

He nudged the first aid kit just close enough for Double D’s echolocation brain to pick up on it. He muzzily tossed a hand out to grab at it and draw it closer to the couch cushion and throw blanket he’d already gathered to his chest. Peter snickered as he ran into some difficulty getting the open box up off the ground in a hug-able fashion. The process was made extra hard by the fact that he refused to give up any of his other newly acquired cuddle buddies or the arm holding them to aid him in this new endeavor.

Peter was almost tempted to give him a bit of help but stopped himself short and sat back to observe.

Subconscious Double D had another secret quirk. He was about twice as pragmatic and goal-oriented as normal Double D. Presented with an obstacle, he took the path of least resistance. He grumpily knocked over and banged the box around until all its contents were artfully scattered all over the floor and it bounced closed. Satisfied with this new shape, he dragged it in and vanished it into the folds of the throw blanket. He flopped over onto his other side.

Peter locked a hand over his mouth to contain himself. He looked around to find something else to feed into the nest. There was an empty plastic cup on the coffee table.

He reached over and snagged it, then offered it to the sleeping devil.

Double D snuffled into the rug and ignored the cup for a good ten seconds before the echolocation kicked in and he reached a hand out behind him to find it. Peter danced it out of his reach.

“Hey _,_ ” Miss Claire’s voice barked behind him. He froze. “What have I told you about doing that?”

He sheepishly put the cup back on the table.

“Don’t,” he told her dolefully. She gave him a killer eyebrow and then went back about her business finding something in the kitchen. Peter waited until she was out of sight before picking up a wrapped bandage from the first aid kit carnage; he held it out to Double D in place of the cup. Double D nuzzled around the floor and the cushion in his arms a bit before sensing that a new thing was being offered to him. He reached back for it.

Miss Claire plucked it out of Peter’s hand. He jumped. She stood over him, hands on her hips.

“Wilson,” she called, death glare still locked and loaded on Peter. He felt the animal urge to flatten himself on the ground, “Come deal with your kid.”

Wade emerged from the bathroom where he’d been sewing up his hand as a stopgap until he got home to let it heal properly. He’d taken off his mask to do it, so Peter got the full impact of his tired, judgmental adult eyes.

“Pete, stop fucking with him, he’s been through enough tonight,” he ordered in his dad-voice.

This coming from a guy who’d blown off all his own fingers except the bird to make a point. Peter mugged at him a little, but Wade couldn’t tell through the mask and decided his silence was repentant. He returned to the bathroom. Claire evidently recognized the squinting a little bit better and gave him a warning finger. She returned to the kitchen.

He grabbed a new bandage from the floor and hunkered down just on the edge of Double D's unconscious sense bubble.

**Author's Note:**

> i lucid dream fairly regularly and my sisters fucked with me when i was doing that shit for TWO YEARS before they told me they were doing it. rude af


End file.
